I’m used to exhausting nights with surrealism that would even spook David Lynch, nightmares and intricate murder mysteries with surprise twist endings (how can my subconscious keep track of all the different details, while also keeping them hidden from me until the very end?). I’m no stranger to lucid dreaming à la Vanilla Sky, and action filled adventures with wars, escapes and ultra-violence.
I am certain that I know what it’s like to die at least thirty-five different horrible deaths. I’ve had many dreams within a dream, so I had to wake up twice in order to get out of bed. I’ve heard loud bangs that echoed in my head, I’ve tossed and turned in restlessness (1973 Linda Blair-style) and experienced weird Freudian stuff and what not. I’ve also on numerous occasions dreamt entirely new, fully arranged songs with complete bass lines, drum beats, vocal melodies and guitar parts. But a few months ago I dreamt a color: no inner visions, just one single color. The color changed when I turned in bed. Now, what the hell does that mean?